


ah-leet

by rostovslover



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pregnancy, and the tags on the cursed platform scare me, its cute and fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:41:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28425666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rostovslover/pseuds/rostovslover
Summary: The Child seems to catch on to the fact that you’re pregnant about the time you do but with pesky bounties and the  weight of everything bad that could happen you can’t seem to find the words to tell Mando.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 163





	ah-leet

Aliit (ah-LEET) is the mando’a word meaning family or clan

You’d lend the discovery to The Child, the little monster and his strange connection to anything that allowed him. He had begun to act strange at the same time you began to feel strange. It was as if he was instinctively drawn to whatever maternal essence radiated from you. You were, in fact, pregnant. You knew, even without any solid evidence; it was more a feeling, an awareness that ebbed its way into your conscious telling you you were with child.

You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it began, it crept in like ivy, taking over your thoughts. Being a healer you knew the symptoms, morning sickness; cravings; high emotions; missed menstrual cycles; so on. So perhaps that’s what drew you, toting Din’s tiny green terror, to someone more trained - a midwife on a desert planet where Mando had to hunt a bounty.

It was on that same planet, one whose name Din neglected to tell you, that you experienced the brunt of the dreaded illness. The name, morning sickness, was deceiving, it came at all hours, hitting particularly hard in the evening. It was miserable, terribly so, and with your beloved companion off stopping some injustice you had to go it alone. And despite how badly you wanted to tell him when he returned you couldn’t. At first, you were simply too tired, with too little drive to say anything more than a small ‘hello’ when he first arrived. But after, when you felt more kin to something living it didn’t seem right, you couldn’t find the words.

It had spun out of control after that, every time you planned out how exactly you would give Din the news you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. There were so many reasons, and despite your rationalization, you weren’t able to bring yourself to do it. Boiled down, this was terrifying and the thought of what could happen to your baby nagged at you incessantly. It was limitless, Din’s job was dangerous; your job was dangerous. How could you raise a child on this ship, in this environment? How would The Child react to your child; how would the birthing process go? And of course, the sickening worry at the back of your mind, what if something happened to you or Din? It was always a concern, of course, but more with a baby. Where would it go, what would become of it? Din had been lucky when he was orphaned, being rescued by the Mandalore, but chances of that happening to every misfortune stricken child? Almost nonexistent. It petrified you, the thought of your child being all alone in the world, defenseless and without anyone to care for them. Even worse, it could happen. It did happen, more frequently than you’d like to acknowledge. 

Time was quickly running out, and Din’s knowledge of his child’s mere existence would have to be put into the open eventually. You had been throwing things in front of the inevitable for months, three to be precise, and now you had begun to show. Not very much, just slightly, but you could tell.

“Are you still awake?” Din asked, visor still straight forwards, facing the never ending expanse of space in front of him. He was, in fact, the pinnacle of grace and composure and you admired him for that. Everything he did was elegant, words spun like prized poetry and steps confident and calculated. The time you had watched him thrust his blaster into the face of a stormtrooper it viewed like a meticulously crafted ballet.

You drew your thoughts from how all encompassing he was to properly respond, “Yes, but I’m not sure that your The Child is,”

“That’s fine,” He flicked a few switches, “He’s been a terror all day, it’ll be good if he sleeps.” Something clicked loudly and the ship began to start to do things on its own accord, Din turned towards you, “Bed?”

You nodded softly, “Sounds wonderful,” Standing you offered a hand to him, which he took in kind, pulling himself up and tugging you into him. Despite the hard beskar and cool leather, there was still something so warm and lovely about him. Din carried an energy of fervour and homeliness but it wasn’t something he willingly exposed. You had to dig and break away his walls but it was there. And now it enveloped you completely, sucking you into him and his arms and the smell of blaster residue that clung to his armour.

“Are you alright?” Din asked softly, taking your face in his hands to draw your eyes to his visor.

“Just fine Mando. Tired, that’s all.” You gave him and gentle smile and patted at his wrist.

He made a soft sound, something of a sigh, and rested his forehead against yours, “I’m not convinced but I do have full confidence you’ll tell me when you’re ready. I trust you.” There was a lull as you wallowed in the presence of each other, “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,”

“I love you,”

The Child squirmed between you, making a noise of annoyance, clearly looking to be tucked into his pod.

Din gathered the grumpy bundle, “You go get to bed, I’ll put it down.” He shooed you off to the sleeping quarters.

You hadn’t been in bed very long before Din came. In the pitch black of the room, you heard him begin to discard his clunky armour. His helmet was set under the bed and the sheets shuffled as he settled in next to you. You curled into him, nosing into the space where his shoulder met his neck. His skin was soft and you could feel a few strands of hair brush against your forehead. One of his hands began to trace the length of your spine and he felt like home. This was where you felt the safest, with Din, who you had surrendered yourself to and who had done the same in return. He was safety. And as you lay, body tangled with his, you realized the weight of this thing. The baby, that was. His baby. Your baby. The life forming in you, being kindled and nourished by your body.

“Din?” It was a mere whisper, barely audible with the sound of space rushing around you.

“Yes, cyar’ika?”

You gathered a bit of composure and whatever dignity you could muster, “How do you feel about children?”

You felt him shrug, “The kids fine, I like him. I guess I haven’t been around many children, it’s not really in the line of work.”

“I’m pregnant.”

It felt like all the air in the room got ten degrees hotter. He pulled back from you and the fragile sense of worth you had plastered to yourself began to crack. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that he wouldn’t want this, maybe he despised the thought of having kids.

His hands were soft, pressing to your face as if he could hold you together just by that, “You’re… Is it- I mean I’d assume but, and are y-” He took and breath, “You’re going to have my child?”

“Yes Din, your child,”

Something similar to a laugh left him and he darted down to pepper your face in kisses, “This is… incredible? I don’t know what to say-” He kissed you softly on the mouth, “Thank you,”

You snorted, “I can’t take all of the credit, you played a pretty big part too,”

“Aliit,” He whispered, and thought you could detect a soft sniffle, “Family, our clan.”


End file.
